Poor Milton, An Anomaly

The events of this day were merely a minor interlude in Scott's academic life, and he soon put them to the back of his mind.

Although he had seen through the true nature of Miss Travers at a single glance. In his perception, her magical state was vastly different from that of an ordinary young wizard—

A wizard who has killed someone with their own hands will undergo subtle changes in their magic.

This change cannot be hidden.

This was a point Scott had discovered after awakening his magical perception and observing many other wizards.

If he were to paint an oil portrait of Miss Travers depicting her magic, there would undoubtedly be a black and red "scar" on the canvas.

It wouldn't be very conspicuous, yet it would feel somewhat jarring.

Scott had no intention of investigating why an 11-year-old girl had already killed someone.

He wasn't an Auror, after all.

As long as she didn't provoke him, he had no spare time or interest to concern himself with matters that had absolutely nothing to do with him.

However, seeing that girl inevitably made Scott think of Professor Flitwick.

That professor had never killed anyone, which actually surprised Scott quite a bit.

At noon that day, Scott and his two roommates walked out of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, preparing to head to the Great Hall for lunch.

"Milton?"

In the corridor, Scott and Roger, noticing that Milton hadn't kept up with their pace, turned back and were simultaneously taken aback.

At this moment, Milton was moving slowly with vacant eyes and a listless expression, his once-smooth long hair now somewhat disheveled; he looked like an Inferius that had lost its soul.

Hufflepuff students who had just finished the same class walked past him, unable to hold back a few snickers.

"Hey! Cheer up, Milton!"

Roger walked back and reached out to drape an arm over Milton's shoulder, leading him to start walking quickly.

Scott smiled helplessly and followed.

In the class just now, Professor Lockhart had called on Milton to stand at the front of the room and play the banshee from the book Break with a Banshee. The reason was that Milton "had the smoothest long hair in the entire classroom."

It seemed now that this classroom performance had been a heavy blow to Milton.

"I had a premonition about this!" Roger complained loudly. "Everything I said on the train has come true, Scott! Our Professor Lockhart is indeed even less capable of being a professor than Quirrell!"

A Ravenclaw walking nearby immediately chimed in loudly: "You're right, Roger! Look at what that idiot did during class! Huh? No magical theory, no magical practice, just stage plays like a fool!"

At this, Milton couldn't help but let out a loud sob.

"Oh, I wasn't talking about you, Milton." The boy who spoke quickly tried to make amends. "I meant... well... in any case, your performance was still great."

"Forget it! Dylan!" A girl walked over, furious. "Lockhart is absolutely useless, Merlin! To think I was full of expectations for him before school started! Because his novels are well-written! Poor Milton, you should have just refused him next time!"

Hearing her remarks, several passing Hufflepuff girls immediately took offense.

"Kayla White! How dare you speak ill of Professor Lockhart behind his back!"

"Professor Lockhart just hasn't adjusted yet!"

"Do you know how hard Professor Lockhart works? Look at those masterpieces in your hands!"

"What Kayla said is obviously true! You idiots!"

Dylan hurriedly stepped in front of Kayla, and the group began to argue, everyone talking at once.

Watching this scene, Scott immediately pulled Roger and Milton away, hurrying off.

"I can't believe that guy Lockhart actually has so many admirers!" Roger made a retching expression. "Those girls must have been blinded by his idiotic smile!"

"He is indeed very good at packaging himself."

Seeing that Milton still couldn't lift his spirits, Scott comforted him: "Milton, perhaps you'd prefer to be out of everyone's sight for a while? You could go back to the dormitory and get some rest."

Roger also added, "Don't worry, we'll pack you some lunch."

Milton sobbed again. "Oh! Yes, I need to stay away from people for a while, thank you both!"

After thanking them, he hurried off in the direction of Ravenclaw Tower.

Watching his retreating figure, Scott said to Roger, "Lockhart seems to have a habit of fixating on one person. As far as I know, a second-year Gryffindor student mocked his Cornish Pixies during the first Defense Against the Dark Arts class, and as a result, he gets called up to perform in a stage play every single class since."

"Milton didn't seem to offend him, did he?" Roger was a bit confused.

"No, Milton has already offended him," Scott said helplessly. "Milton believes Lockhart's classroom tarnishes the art of stage performance. You know, he's never been good at hiding his emotions; Lockhart must have seen that look in his eyes."

"That look?" Roger's expression changed. "I understand, it's [Milton's Disdain]!"

He had also been on the receiving end of that look from Milton, and the memory was still fresh.

"Roger, whether it's for Milton's own sake or for the peace of our dormitory."

Scott patted Roger on the shoulder.

"Next Defense Against the Dark Arts class, please take the initiative to step in for Milton."

"Why me?"

"Because you are the most handsome of the four boys in our dormitory."

"Oh! Since you put it that way... alright then!"

As the two of them walked into the Great Hall, Scott suddenly stopped in his tracks, looking down toward the area beneath the staircase in the entrance hall.

"What is it?"

Roger followed Scott's gaze and then clicked his tongue in wonder.

"Hm? That kid is a first-year, right? To think he's standing so intimately with three girls, whispering away? Maybe his number of ex-girlfriends will surpass mine soon!"

"Something isn't right." Scott's eyes turned cold. "Jacob Kent, Caitlin Rowle. If you recall, those two first-years had a conflict on the first day of school; Caitlin Rowle accused Jacob Kent of pushing her down the spiral staircase of Ravenclaw Tower."

Roger said in surprise, "But now those two are actually hanging out together? Plus two Slytherin girls?"

Scott was already frowning. "That blonde Slytherin girl is Jasmine Travers."

"Her?"

A look of astonishment appeared on Roger's face.

Regarding Scott's cryptic assessment of Jasmine Travers, Eddie had, of course, been unable to resist telling Roger about it later.

He asked Scott, "What do you mean?"

"That incident on the first day of school probably wasn't as simple as it seemed." Scott said, "That girl, Jasmine Travers—I suspect that matter had something to do with her."

Just then, Travers, who was below the staircase, suddenly looked up and locked eyes with Scott once again.

Scott paid no mind to the polite, distant smile on the girl's face. In that moment, his gaze seemed to pierce through her pupils and see straight into her heart.

The girl immediately wiped away her smile and lowered her head, avoiding Scott's gaze.

"Jacob."

Scott called out the boy's name.

"Mr. Trollope."

Jacob looked up and greeted Scott politely.

"It's lunchtime." Scott said.

"Yes, thank you for the reminder." Jacob smiled.

Watching the expression on the boy's face, Scott lowered his eyelids and said nothing more; he simply nodded and turned to walk into the Great Hall.

"What's wrong?" Roger followed him and asked in a low voice.

"That boy has changed."

Scott said this cryptically in a soft voice, then walked straight to the Ravenclaw table and sat down.

Roger sat down beside him. "Scott?"

"We'll talk later."

Scott shook his head and began to eat.

However, the crease between his brows never disappeared.